Case Number 16233: Small Claims Court

SAINT FRANCIS

The Charge

Dita Von Teese...in her first feature film!

The Case

It the above charge gets you all charged, then have I got a film for you.
Saint Franics is little more than the celebrated performance artist and
former Mrs. Marilyn Manson striking poses, showing off her hourglass figure, and
chatting on her cell phone. Yeah, there's a plot and some other characters, but
they don't make much of an impression. For that matter, neither does Von Teese,
but at least a few people have heard of her.

Saint Francis tells the tale of the children of a wealthy
televangelist (Zalman King, sometimes-actor who as a writer gave us Nine 1/2
Weeks, Wild Orchid, and Red Shoe Diaries). Baby Sid (Casey
Anderson), the youngest, is a troubled drug dealer. Soul (Von Teese), the middle
child, is a troubled sex worker. Francis (Charles Koutris), the eldest, is just
troubled, with sex and drugs being significant parts of these troubles. People
do lots of drugs, there are some sex scenes, and there's possibly a subplot
about alien abductions.

Actually, there's "possibly" a bunch of stuff going on, but
Saint Francis is one of those precious and pretentious film school-style
"indies" (as opposed to the fun and creative independent films you
stumble across every now and again). Rather than a cohesive narrative, we get a
hodgepodge of scenes that are probably supposed to add up to something clever or
profound but just seem randomly thrown together. It's a "night in the life
of" the uninteresting (and woodenly acted) preacher's kids, who just seem
to have too much time on their hands. Also tossed in are some arbitrary
soft-core porn bits, a few killings, and a droning narrator who tells us things
we can see for ourselves but refuses to answer the big question -- why the hell
are we watching this thing?

The focus here is not Von Teese's Soul, but the hopelessly drug addicted and
misanthropic Francis. Francis rambles on the soundtrack about nothing in
particular, snorts dozens of lives of cocaine, and watches two constantly
repeating TV shows, one about alien abductions, the other his father's
God-for-pay shtick. There's a suggestion that the whole thing might be a dream
Francis is having during an operation. If so, I'd suggest he fire his
anesthesiologist and look into better drugs. Even with sex, aliens, and
killings, Saint Francis is dull as day-old toast. For a film that runs a
relatively brief 72 minutes, this all feels padded and drawn out. There is
really nothing to see here.

Saint Francis is very well shot, particularly for the budget. The
disc looks and sounds fine for what it is. Extras include some unnecessarily
extended scenes, trailers, and a music video.

Saint Francis strains so hard to be hip that it ends up being quaint.
Sex, drugs, and a corrupt and corrupting televangelist. Paging 1983.